Hell in a Handbasket - The Journey

by Damara Blackthorne

  He sat there, blinking a few times before he drew his hand out of mine.

  “Yeah, I guess we’re not strangers anymore.” More blinking as he continued to look at me like he couldn’t figure something out.

  “Fantastic.” I smiled, and turned to look back at the water. “It’s beautiful here, don‘t you think?”

  “Yes.” His voice barely above a whisper.

  I glanced sideways at him, unable to tell if he was talking about the view of the lake or something else.

  We sat there in silence, enjoying the peace and serenity around us, for a while longer.

  He startled me when he suddenly jumped up. He ran his right hand through his hair and with a nervous look that said he might get sick soon, he thrust his left hand at me.

  “Here.” There was a silent plea in his eyes that made the butterflies in my tummy flutter.

  I reached up with my right hand, palm up. He placed a small folded piece of paper into my hand, and took off running back up to camp at a real break-neck speed. I watched him, wondering where the fire was.

  I glanced back at the piece of paper in my hand. It was a note…a note with a simple comment. I reached into my new purse, took out the pen my father had gotten me for my birthday, and I wrote my reply.

  Taking a deep breath, I got up from the log to find the cute, shy boy who had apparently, for the first time, stepped outside of his comfort zone. And he deserved to be rewarded for his efforts.

  We had spent the rest of that day, and part of the next passing that same note. His shyness amazed me. Living with my parents, who are free lovers, and free thinkers, I didn’t really understand people who were shy, who were apprehensive about just being themselves. He was so scared, afraid to take risks, yet for me he was trying, and that to me made all the difference in the world.

  * * * *

  I glanced back at Ryder. Confusion fogged my brain, and the tears threatened to fall. I spied the note with utter disbelief. The words starting to swim as more tears gathered. I attempted to read the words, emotions I had forgotten or forced away slammed into me. I gave up trying to hold back the tears, and they fell, hard.

  I think you are the prettiest girl at camp.

  Thank you. I think you’re cute too!

  Really?

  Yes!!!

  I was wondering if you would like to sit with me at tonight’s movie?

  I’d like that.

  The movie was so lame. I’m sorry my friends are jerks.

  Thanks! I like you and I was wondering if you like me too?

  I struggled to gain some decorum of composure. I didn’t understand how or why Ryder had this note, or how he knew that one of the writers of this note was me.

  “How, when, who?” I struggled with the words and what his having this note might possibly mean.

  “Turn it over.” Ryder’s soft voice filled me with a warmth I hadn’t felt since the day we first met at the airport lobby.

  Turning the note over, I read—

  Yes, I like you a lot.

  “How, when, who?” I tried again.

  Ryder smiled as he reached up, cupping my face with both hands, and softly wiped the tears from my face with the pads of his thumbs. “One thing at a time. Sweetheart, that’s my note.”

  “No, the boy’s name was Dylan, I remember very clearly, his name was Dylan.”

  “Dylan is my middle name. Dylan is me, I was that boy.” His smile never faltered as his eyes pleaded with me to understand.

  “But, why? Why keep this note after all these years?”

  “Look at me Maeve, do I look or even act like that shy, scared kid?”

  “No, but I still don’t understand…”

  “You Maeve, You’re the reason…” he fanned his arm out to span the entire lobby, “You were the catalyst that pulled me out of my shell. After that day in summer camp, after you left, all that I had left of you, to remember you by was that note.” He nodded in the direction of the piece of paper still in my hand. “You have no idea how much you changed my life that summer. I was awkward and shy and afraid to take chances. You taught me that to get what you want, you have to take chances, to take risks. Your belief that you have to take risks to get what you want, changed me and made me the man I am today. So, technically, all of this is because of you.”

  “Uh…I convinced you to be a stalker? I don’t think so…” I shook my head in disbelief.

  Ryder chuckled and reminded me just how hard it was for me to think around him. “No Maeve, not a stalker. When your name came across my desk, I was surprised that after all of these years, I may have found you again. I wasn’t sure if it was you. Your writing didn’t seem to fully encompass the girl I remembered from camp. So I had to make sure before I made a fool of myself.”

  “But you just said that I helped you learn to take risks. How is stalking me and not being up front taking risks?”

  “You taught me to take risks with my life, yes. But I was afraid of losing you again. I wasn’t prepared to take that risk.”

  “Oh.”

  “So tell me Maeve, what happened? How did you change so drastically from the girl at camp?”

  “That last day, when they called my name over the loud speaker…to go to the guidance office, was when I found out my parents had died in a plane crash…and that my grandmother was coming to pick me up…so that I could move in with her. The trauma of losing both parents, the shock of moving in with Gram, was just too much for me. Gram was so different than my parents, they were such free spirits…and Gram was so very religious. A real Southern Baptist Lady. And she didn’t approve of anything my parents had taught me, of the way they had raised me. She was very strict and worked very hard to turn me into a younger version of herself.”

  “Then how did you end up writing adult romances?” He cocked one eyebrow at me. But his expression was one of compassion and concern, not disapproval like Gram always had when she cocked only one eyebrow. It was such a cool move, I wish I could do it.

  “My father was a writer, and he had hoped I would follow in his footsteps. Gram wasn’t very supportive of that career choice. She didn’t really like my dad. She blamed him for turning my mother so far from her upbringing, and for ultimately taking her away.” My smile was weak and thin.

  “So what happened to your grandmother?”

  “She passed a little over three years ago.” I dipped my head as more tears fell.

  Ryder gently lifted my head as he continued to stroke my face, wiping away the new tears. “Maeve, sweetheart, I am so sorry that you had to go through that. One of the things I learned on the journey you helped me start is that everything happens for a reason. You helped me come out of my shell, and now I want to do the same for you, if you’ll let me.”

  “Although I understand why you did what you did, I really do think that you should have started with the note, and went from there.” I glanced up into those hypnotic green eyes of his, and felt my heart start to falter and flutter.

  “If I had started with the note, tell me you wouldn’t have thought of me as that shy boy from camp. You were no longer the girl who was so sure of herself that she made the view by the lake pale in comparison. You needed me to be the person for you that you once were for me. And that person was someone who would rock your very foundation, so that you could rebuild you. And that person was Ryder, not Dylan.”

  I blinked heavily as I took in his words. They rang true, and besides every time I get near him, I can’t seem to think clearly anyways. I smiled, clutched the note closer to me with my right hand. I lifted up my left hand, and handed him back the box.

  Ryder’s smile beamed quickly, and was so amazing it could have stopped time. With his right hand, he gently took the box from me, wrapped his left arm around me and pulled me close.

  He dipped his head and brought his face close to mine. He was so close I could smell his shampoo and aftershave. A deep woodsy, manly scent, and I felt my head spin with anticipation, yet he didn’t move
any closer. He held his position and I glanced up at him, expecting him to move closer, expecting him to kiss me. But he didn’t move. Not closer, nor back away. He waited.

  My heart was pounding. After everything I had just gone through in a little over a week, I really wanted that kiss.

  I waited, and still he didn’t move. I couldn’t take it anymore. I leaned up, and kissed him hard. It was urgent, demanding and hungry, and he pulled away from me. I looked up at him confused. He smiled that smile that had me forgetting my name, and leaned down just out of my reach, and kissed me softly, barely touching my lips. I tried to reach up and make him kiss me harder, and he pulled away. I blinked, confused. He leaned down again, still just out of my reach, and brushed my mouth with his. Once again I tried to make him kiss me harder, and once again he pulled away. Hell in a hand basket, there was that smile again.

  I vaguely heard someone start to cough. It got louder and more insistent.

  Ryder looked up and I followed his gaze, over to Ms. Bonner.

  “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t mean to interrupt. I just thought you might want to take your meeting to someplace a little more private.” Ms. Bonner had a look on her face that was an odd mixture of shock and amusement.

  “Yes, Ms. Bonner, you are absolutely correct.” Ryder looked like a little kid who had been caught running down the hall at school.

  * * * *

  Ryder looked to me with a look on his face that belied his worry that I might disappear again. "Maeve, I asked you the last time you were here, if you would like to see my office?"

  "The one with all of the monitors in it?" I cocked my head at him, trying to convey that I had no intentions of running away this time.

  Ryder's soft smile turned into a full-blown grin. "Yes, Maeve, that would indeed be the one."

  "Then yes, I think I would like to see it." I grinned back at him.

  “Um Maeve, I understand your attachment to the note, I’ve had that same attachment. I don’t want it to get messed up. Let’s put it back in the box and you can keep it in your purse.”

  I didn’t realize I had such a death grip on that tiny little piece of paper, until I released my grip to hand the note back to Ryder. He took the note from me, carefully folded the note as though he had done it numerous times before, before placing it back into its resting place inside the fragile box. With the smile that started all of this, he handed me the box, which I carefully placed inside of my purse. I was so much more careful with the box now that I knew what precious cargo it held.

  Chapter Nine

  I felt a little awkward, especially when Ryder placed his hand on my lower back and steered me toward the left side of the receptionist’s desk and down a short wide corridor. We approached a set of heavy mahogany doors. His name was on a plaque in gold lettering attached to the door.

  He opened the door and motioned me inside. He was wearing a smile I had never seen him wear before. It was a mixture of excitement with just a hint of worry. He looked like a little boy who had made a gift for his mother and he was excited to give it to her but was afraid it wouldn't be good enough for her. He was so adorable.

  I reached up and placed my hand on his cheek. I heard his breath catch as he placed his hand over mine and closed his eyes for the briefest of moments.

  When he opened his eyes, they were a dark emerald green and the gold flecks had turned to bronze. His pupils had enlarged and the look on his face was of a man who was starving. I felt my lower belly tighten and heat up as my heartbeat quickened and my breathing stopped.

  He wrapped his arm around my waist and hoisted me over the threshold of his office. He placed me back on my feet long enough to lock the door behind us. My thighs were starting to tighten up and my knees were going weak. I was wheezing trying to find air. Why was it that when I was around this man I couldn’t seem to breathe?

  As Ryder was locking the door behind us, I took the opportunity to glance around the office. I noticed his large mahogany desk in a deep rich finish to the left of the room. Two burgundy leather couches encased in hand-carved mahogany wood sat in the middle of the room. And that's when it hit me…Tom's office—that's where I had seen this furniture before.

  "Um…Ryder?"

  "Yes Maeve?" His voice was deep and raspy.

  "This furniture looks an awful lot like Tom's…"

  "Maeve, do you really want to talk about furniture right now?" His voice sounded like he had gravel in his throat, coming out almost like a growl.

  "No, I just…it just…"

  "Well?"

  "It just…reminded me of Tom's office and yes, I had some questions…but you're kind of scary right now…"

  "I don't want to scare you Maeve, I want to make love to you!" His face softened and his gaze deepened, encompassing me in a blanket of warmth that started at the roots of my hair and zipped through my body to the soles of my feet.

  He reached up with his left hand and cupped my cheek. With his thumb, he traced the outline of my lips and I had a momentary flash of our first meeting in the airport lobby. He wrapped his right arm around my waist and carried me past the couch, facing the vast window overlooking the city, past the coffee table which sat between the couches and over to the couch facing the doors.

  "Maeve, you have no idea what you do to me. I have had a thing for you since we were kids, I never forgot you and I want you. I want you here, I want you now."

  "I'm here, Ryder, take me."

  His eyes darkened even more. Oh Holy…

  "Maeve, I'm having a hard time here…" His face was soft yet troubled.

  "Ryder? What's wrong?"

  "I don't want to scare you or hurt you…" That had me worried. "But, I want to love you softly, gently yet at the same time I want to move way past making love and go straight to fucking like animals." His eyes were sad, his mouth was pulled tight, and his face was contorted with sadness, pain, and fear.

  I smiled and rubbed his face. "I guess it's time for that safe word then…"

  His eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. I giggled. "I take it you approve of me agreeing to this safe word idea?"

  "Oh yes, I do." Waggle, waggle…that made me burst out laughing.

  "Okay, I don't really know the mechanics of a safe word…what do we do?"

  "First of all, we pick a word that won't normally be used during our encounter and we pick a word which is easy to remember."

  "So…let me get this straight…A word that isn't normally uttered when we have sex? So oh, God and yes are out of the running?"

  He laughed such a deep laugh. It reminded me to make a recording of his laugh so that when this was over I would always have it at the ready.

  "Those words would not be eligible, true. Something more like…pineapple."

  I looked at him with a look of serious doubt on my face.

  "What, you don't think you can remember pineapple?"

  "Oh the remembering isn't exactly the problem, it's my inability to speak actual words that's the problem. Can we have a safe sound?" I looked hopeful.

  Again with the vibrating laugh. "No, Maeve. It needs to be a word that you have to make yourself say. That is if you really want me to stop what I'm doing, it has to be a word."

  "Ok, fine. But it needs to be a short word. I'm gonna have a hard enough time speaking as it is."

  He chuckled "Okay, how about…cargo…? Do you think you can remember the word cargo?"

  "Well, I was hoping for something even shorter. You know, one syllable like…green or red…"

  "Sure, your call. Green or red?"

  I tested out the words, "Gre…gre…Red…red…red, it's shorter so it seems to work better."

  "Red it is then."

  "I'm gonna start slow Maeve, but considering how badly I want you, at some point I am sure the animal in me will take over…are you ready?"

  "Ready…ready…red…"

  "Red? You want me to stop already?"

  "What? No? I was just testing…you know like…testi
ng, testing…"

  He chuckled, "Well stop testing and relax. I want you to be about me as much as I am going to be about you."

  I simply smiled.

  Ryder cupped my face with both hands and placed the softest kiss on my lips. I moaned. With his right hand, he began to caress my cheek. His left hand turned around and grazed my skin with his fingernails. "So beautiful…" His right hand wound its way to the back of my head. He grabbed a handful of my hair and tugged gently. I felt my heart drop and then liquefy as it poured through my stomach and pooled between my legs.

  The fingernails of his left hand continued their tantalizing assault of my skin from my face, down my jaw and neck past my collarbone to the top of my breast. There he stroked the tops of my breasts over and over. Back and forth, teasing me with that light scraping. I tried to moan and gasp at the same time. It made a funny strangled sound.

  Ryder chuckled and started to undo the buttons of my blouse. He was taking his sweet time, just like he had in Tom's office. His touch electrified my skin. I smacked his hand, reached down to the hem of my blouse, and pulled the damn thing over my head.

  With a smirk and droopy eyes, I glanced at him. "Slow later…I am never gonna get to use the word red if you keep going this agonizingly slow…unless you want me to say red to going slow?"

  At first, the look on Ryder's face was incredulity, then it transformed to a look of pure pleasure and wanton abandonment. He reached a hand forward, got painfully close to my bra, and snapped his fingers. My bra opened and fell away as if possessed, leaving my breasts exposed, and hanging free. Ryder growled in approval.

  He took both breasts, holding the weight of them in his hands. With his thumbs, he began rubbing my nipples, causing them to harden into painfully stiff peaks, making the skin around them pucker. He took my right nipple into his mouth.

  The heat and slickness of his mouth sent shivers running through me, tickling the palms of my hands and the soles of my feet. His tongue laved my nipple, making it overly moist. He gently bit my hard bud, causing a brief shot of pain then he stopped and sucked in a breath of air with such intensity, the cool air flowing over my wet nipple caused it to swell and harden beyond comfort. It was painful but a good painful. He took me back into his mouth and sucked hard then bit harder than before. It hurt and I loved it.